


Masquerade

by Ankhet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:24:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ankhet/pseuds/Ankhet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war had been won, at last, but it had not been without its price. Those who were left had gathered for a night of masks and dancing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masquerade

“Masquerade – paper faces on parade – masquerade – hide your face so the world will never find you.  
Masquerade – every face a different shade – masquerade – look around there’s another mask behind you  
Masquerade – run and hide but a face will still pursue you – and who can name the face?”

 

An old-fashioned masquerade. Once a room of cold stone and hard benches, the Great Hall was now a mass of swirling colors topped with paper faces.

Hermione stepped into the doorway of the Great Hall and surveyed the sea of dancers before her: the one bright spot – both literally and figuratively – in the year during which so much had gone wrong. Harry had left school to fight He-who-mus—Hermione stopped her thought and steeled herself to think his name—Voldemort. The only reminder of Dumbledore, on whom they had counted in their previous years, was hanging in Headmistress McGonagall’s office: a painting that slept half the time and rarely spoke when it was awake. Students had left that year, due to the disappearance or death of family and friends; some had never returned from the summer holidays – if such a time could really be called a holiday.

Hermione shook her head and stepped out of the doorway and into the Hall itself, checking her mask. Her thoughts stayed with her, however, planted as firmly in her mind as her mask was on her face.

The war had been won, at last, but it had not been without its price. Those who were left had gathered for a night of masks and dancing.

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione never noticed the gloved hand snaking around her shoulder until she was whisked by its masked owner onto the dance floor amid the swirls of color.

“Now what is a beautiful girl like you doing standing here all along in the middle of a ball?” asked a voice from behind her partner’s mask.

Before she could answer she was turned by another pair of gloved hands and swept into a dance with the mirror image of her previous partner. “Lucky you’ve got us here to rescue you.” The mask dipped as its owner nodded at his own words.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at her partner’s statement. “Fred, I thought you’d left these walls for good two years ago.”

“I did,” replied a twin from behind her, “but George here convinced me otherwise.” Hermione’s head whipped from her partner to his twin behind her. Each now had one hand on her waist and the other on her raised hand, clasping it between their own in a double-sided embrace.

They danced like that to the end of the song and into the next, one twin on either side of Hermione, both leading her as one around the floor.


End file.
